Any Way the Wind Blows
by DescendingAngel
Summary: Collection of oneshots about Snape.
1. Any Way the Wind Blows

_Disclaimer: Nothing you recognise belongs to me and I'm not making any money with this._

_Author's Note: This story is set in Snape's 7th year as a student at Hogwarts and it's the first in a series of one-shots. I'll post them in chronological order, but they don't really have anything to do with each other. I hope you'll like it._

* * *

Any Way the Wind Blows

The snow-covered streets of Hogsmeade were bustling with life as hundreds of people went from one shop to the next, chatting and carrying large bags filled with Christmas gifts.

A tall, lank teenager dressed completely in black slowly walked down the crowded main street, keeping his hands buried in his coat's pockets and his eyes fixed on the ground in front of him. He looked a little lost and alone amidst all these people and didn't seem to belong here into this noisy street. But even though he looked so obviously different from everyone else, nobody really noticed him as they walked past him.

He didn't mind that. Actually, not being noticed seemed like a good thing to him; he'd worked on it for a long time.

An elderly woman bumped into him and apologized for it, smiling at him. He didn't return her smile and turned left into a quiet side street. Too many people around him always made him feel uncomfortable.

He didn't know why he'd even come here. He didn't like Hogsmeade and especially around Christmas, he really hated it here. But it was still better than everyone teasing him about preferring to stay in the castle with his books. At least this would be the last stupid trip he'd have to go on, and the last Christmas he'd have to spend at Hogwarts. He couldn't stand Christmas.

Suddenly, something hit him in the back of his head, and he flinched and turned around. A second snowball hit his shoulder, and another one hit him straight in the face.

"What's up, Snivellus?" James Potter called to him from the other end of the street. "You're not going to fight back?"

"Seems like our slimy, greasy git's just a slimy greasy coward," Sirius Black added, grinning broadly.

He contemplated drawing his wand and attacking them. Black, Potter and Pettigrew were standing in the middle of the narrow street, staring at him and waiting for him to react. A few steps behind them was Lupin, obviously trying to decide whether to join the fun or to not get involved.

Severus knew very well that should he actually attack them, Lupin wouldn't hesitate to help his friends, so it was four against one. He wasn't a coward, but he wasn't an idiot either.

"Go to hell," he muttered, turned away from them and started walking back along the street.

For a moment, nothing happened while they obviously tried to decide what to do, then he heard them running after him and another snowball hit him.

"You're such a wimp, Snape!" Black called.

"What are you going to do now?" Potter asked. "Run home and tell your Mommy? But wait, you can't, can you?"

He whirled back around to face them. Enough was enough.

"Severus!" he heard a familiar voice calling his name from behind him before he could even decide what to do. Potter and Black froze and Pettigrew dropped the snowball he'd been holding in his hand.

Severus glanced behind him and saw a young man with long blond hair standing a few steps away from him. Lucius Malfoy definitely had an impeccable timing, showing up unexpectedly like this.

"What are you up to?" Lucius asked as he walked up to him and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Nothing much," Severus muttered, not taking his eyes off his attackers. They didn't look as if they were planning to continue with their little plan; they could probably guess that they were facing a genuine Death Eater now.

"What's up with you little morons?" Malfoy called towards them. "Did you wet your pants and now you're frozen to the ground?"

Severus sneered at them. Pettigrew quickly turned around and ran back along the street to where Lupin was still standing. Potter and Black shot him a final disdainful glare but then followed their housemate.

"Come on, I'll buy you a drink," Lucius said in a low voice. "We have to talk about a few things."

Severus followed him back along the street and into the little pub at the corner. When he was here with Lucius, nobody ever asked him about his age; so all he had to do was to make sure he didn't get drunk enough for anyone at Hogwarts to notice it.

They sat down at a small table in a dark corner, Lucius ordered something called Dragonfire, and a few minutes later, the waitress placed a glass with a with a red fuming and bubbling liquid in front of each of them.

"You know, I've been thinking about you quite a bit lately," Malfoy said as he took a sip from his drink.

"Have you?" Severus muttered, holding his glass in his hand while curiously eyeing its contents.

"How are things going at school?"

Severus shrugged his shoulders.

"Well, you're a clever one. You'll have no problems passing your exams."

Severus finally brought himself to actually take a sip from his drink. He didn't find it very tasty, but it seemed to be good enough to drown this bloody day.

"Have you thought about what you're going to do after school?" Lucius asked.

"Not really."

From where they were sitting they had a good view of the door, and when it opened, they both watched the group of seventh year students enter the pub.

"Mudbloods," Lucius muttered as he watched them sit down at a table on the other end of the room. Severus knew only about two of them being muggle-born, but he was sure that Lucius knew what he was talking about. "A while ago, that wouldn't have been possible. They wouldn't have allowed that kind of people in here."

Severus leaned back in his chair, trying to melt into the shadows. He didn't need one of them seeing him here and running straight to the Headmaster to tell him that he'd been drinking.

"Someone should get them thrown out," Malfoy muttered, still glaring in the direction of the chattering students. "They have no right to be sitting around here among us."

Severus looked over at them. Lily Evans was one of those mudbloods. Bloody Potter's little girlfriend.

Lucius emptied his drink and waved to the waitress.

"Get me another one, and tell Janus to throw out those damn kids over there," he said to her, and she nodded and walked back to the counter.

Another glass was brought to their table, and not two minutes later, they both watched a plump little man walk over to the Hogwarts students and usher them outside. The man turned towards them, smiled and Lucius nodded.

"So, are you planning on going back home after your exams?"

"Surely not," Severus said.

"I thought so," Lucius said. "You have to start thinking about what you're going to do, you know?"

Severus shrugged his shoulders. He was quite aware of that; but he didn't have any money, so he'd have no choice other than to get some job he'd probably hate.

"Ever thought about joining us?" Lucius asked, leaning back in his chair and giving him an expectant look.

"I don't know... I'm too young."

"You'll be seventeen in a few weeks; I wasn't any older when I joined either."

"Yeah, maybe..." Severus muttered.

"He could support you. Maybe you could study, get a master's degree or something."

"You think he would?"

"Sure, why not?"

"If I wanted to join, do you think he'd even take me?"

"Of course he would. I'd speak in your favour; it shouldn't be a problem."

Severus stared thoughtfully down into the depths of his glass. It didn't sound like such a bad idea really. He'd always wanted to study, so maybe this way he'd get a chance to.

And that look on the faces of Potter and Black when they'd faced Lucius – they'd look at him the same way if he was one of them. If he was a Death Eater.

Then they'd show some respect. He'd have powerful friends. Nobody in their right mind would tangle with a Death Eater; everyone would be afraid of him.

"I know you share our ideals and our beliefs," Lucius said. "But I won't push you, it's up to you. Just think about it."

"Yes, I will."

"Good. If you're interested, just let me know and I'll arrange a meeting."

They quickly changed the subject after that, but Severus found it hard to really listen to anything Malfoy was telling him; he was still thinking about that offer he'd made him. He'd have to make up his mind about it. He knew that it was an important decision, probably more important than any he'd ever made in his life.

If he became a Death Eater, it would make him a criminal. He'd be scorned by society, but that wouldn't make much of a difference. He'd always been an outsider and had never belonged to them anyway.

By the time he left the pub again, it was already dark outside, and it had started snowing. He'd had two more of those Dragonfire drinks and some hot greenish beverage with a weird name that he couldn't recall, so by now, he wasn't at all concerned about being over an hour late and found it merely funny. No doubt, he'd lose some house points for this, but he didn't care about house points.

#-#

When he entered the castle, it was rather quiet and there was nobody to be seen anywhere. Dinner time… his absence probably hadn't gone unnoticed.

He'd only made it halfway across the entrance hall when the shrill voice of Peeves the poltergeist echoed through the castle.

"Trouble, trouble, trouble!" he yelled, darting from one corner of the hall to another. "Late student! You're in trouble!"

"Shut it, you stupid ghost!" Severus hissed at him, but of course it was already too late.

Walking down the stairs came Professor McGonagall, obviously the only person in the whole castle who wasn't in the Great Hall for dinner.

"Mr. Snape, so you finally decided to return to the castle," she greeted him as she walked towards him. "One hour and twenty minutes late."

"Yes, Ma'am," he replied in a low voice.

"We've been looking for you. Would you mind explaining to me where you've been?"

"I'm sorry I'm late. I forgot about the time."

"Twenty points from Slytherin for your being late," McGonagall said. "And detention tomorrow evening because it's not the first time."

For some reason, Severus found it hard to keep himself from grinning at her. Something about the situation struck him as extremely funny, but he couldn't tell what it was. He had to really concentrate on keeping a straight face; he was quite sure that if he so much as smiled, she'd notice that something was not quite right about him.

"Anything else, Mr. Snape?" she asked, giving him an inquisitive look.

"No, Ma'am," he said quickly.

"Very well. You missed dinner so you can go straight to your dormitory now."

"Yes, Professor," he said, turning away from her and continuing on his way towards the dungeons.

#-#

As soon as he set foot in his dormitory, he noticed that there was something amiss. Someone had obviously been going through his stuff, and he was sure he knew who that someone had been. He had no idea how Potter and Black had managed to get in here, but it had to have been them. It seemed they'd used the time his being late had given them, rather well.

Severus glanced around and spotted a piece of paper on the floor next to his bed. He picked it up and read it. "If you want back what's yours, come to the empty classroom in the Astronomy tower at midnight."

As soon as he'd read it, the note gave a strange hissing sound and turned into dust.

He spent the few minutes he still had before everyone returned from dinner searching through his things and trying to figure out what they'd stolen from him, but he found nothing missing. Maybe they hadn't taken anything. But if he wanted to find out, he'd have to go up to the tower tonight. He knew that by doing so he'd just be following their plan, but he'd do it nonetheless. If they thought he was a coward, he'd prove them different.

#-#

He stayed awake until a few minutes before midnight, and then quietly and carefully made his way out of the dungeons and up to the Astronomy tower. When he arrived in the dark empty room halfway up the tower, he found Potter and Black already waiting for him.

At least it was only the two of them and Severus had taken along his wand, so he was convinced that he had a good chance of making it out of here unharmed.

"We were beginning to think that you wouldn't dare to show up," Black greeted him.

"What do you want?" Severus asked, standing a few feet in front of them.

"I want my essay," James Potter said.

"What essay?"

"The bloody Potions essay I've been working on for eight weeks and that _you_ took."

"I don't have your stupid essay," Severus replied. He knew that Potter had to write some essay to improve his Potions grade, but he definitely hadn't touched the damn thing. Although he wished he had – it sounded like a really good idea. Now Potter had obviously misplaced it and was looking for someone to blame. "And that essay wouldn't have helped you much anyway."

"I want my essay back," Potter said. "Just give it to me, or else..."

"Or else what?" Severus asked.

"Still so brave without your Death Eater friends around?" Sirius asked.

"Go to hell, Black."

"We've got something that you might want back," Potter said. "Just give me my essay and you'll get it."

"I don't know anything about your bloody essay."

"Does this change your mind?" Black asked and pulled something out of his pocket, holding it up for him to see.

Severus had just been about to turn and leave when he recognised what it was and froze. He hadn't even checked the bag he kept hidden under his bed because he'd been sure that nobody even knew it existed. But obviously, they'd known about it, and they'd also known about the photograph he'd kept in there. It was the only picture of his mother he still had, but Black couldn't know that.

"Give that to me," Severus said in a low voice, holding out his hand to Black.

"I get my essay back, and you get your photo back," Potter said. "I'm not looking for trouble, it's a simple deal."

"I don't have your essay, don't you get it?"

"This is all your dear Mommy has left you," Black said. "You wouldn't want anything to happen to it, would you?" He pulled out his wand and pointed it at the photograph in his hand. "So?"

"I don't have it! Which part is it you don't understand!"

"Your choice," Black muttered. "_Incendio!_"

A little flame shot from the tip of his wand and he waved the photograph back and forth right above it. Then suddenly, it caught fire. Without even thinking about drawing his wand, Severus jumped at Black and threw him to the ground. The picture fell from his hand and to the floor, but Severus realised that it was too late to save it from the flames anyway. He put his hands around Black's throat and started choking him.

Black tried to get his hands off him, but he didn't have a chance. Right now, Severus wanted to kill him. He really wanted to. And if it hadn't been for Potter jumping at him and pushing him away, he actually might have.

Severus hit James in the face with his elbow and tried to get back onto his feet and back to Black who was still on his knees, coughing and breathing hard. Unfortunately, before he reached him, the torches in the room went on and a loud voice echoed through the room.

"Stop it!" It was McGonagall. Severus was beginning to feel as if she was actually following him around just waiting to take house points from him. "Stop it right now! All of you."

All three of them froze and turned to look at her.

"What's going on here?" she asked, looking from one to another as they slowly got back to their feet.

"Nothing," Black said quickly.

"Nothing," Potter agreed.

Severus remained silent. McGonagall looked at him, obviously waiting for an explanation.

"Nothing," he eventually said in a low voice.

"Very well," McGonagall said, seemingly not too interested in what the reason for all this might have been. "Mr. Potter and Mr. Black, that's thirty points from each of you. And Mr. Snape – what an extraordinarily successful day this has been for you. Another thirty points from Slytherin, and I'd like to see you in my office tomorrow morning."

"Yes, Ma'am," Severus muttered.

"Come along now," McGonagall said, turned away from them and walked across the room towards the door.

"You'll pay for that," Severus hissed at the two Gryffindors before he set off to follow her. "I swear you will."

The three boys followed their Deputy Headmistress down the stairs and along the corridor where she sent them off to their dormitories.

The castle lay completely quiet and his footsteps echoed loudly from the walls as Severus walked down the stairs to the dungeons. Potter and Black would pay for this, definitely. Not today and not tomorrow, but he'd make them pay, them and everyone else, for this and for everything they'd ever done to him.

-end-


	2. Nothing in the Dark

_Disclaimer: Nothing you recognise belongs to me and I'm not making any money with this._

_Author's Note: Thank you for your reviews on the first story, I'm glad you liked it :) This one goes together quite well with the third story so I'm posting them at the same time. I hope you'll like them._

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Nothing in the Dark

It was darker and colder inside these walls than the longest night in the deepest winter could ever have been. In this darkness, it was easy to actually overlook the young man sitting on the floor in a corner of the cell, but nobody ever came down here looking for him anyway.

Trying to ease the anxiety he felt, he took a deep breath, painfully feeling his ribs on his left side. They had been hurting ever since he'd been subjected to that little interrogation three days ago. Maybe four. He'd given up trying to keep track of the days he spent down here; it was completely pointless anyway.

He'd asked the Aurors about the date for his trial a couple of times, but either they hadn't known or they just hadn't wanted to tell him. They probably couldn't even guess how much it would have meant to him. Or more likely, they knew very well and that was why they hadn't told him.

He needed something to wait for. He just couldn't sit around here in this darkness, doing nothing, thinking nothing, day after day after bloody day. He couldn't bear the anxiety and the fear any longer, and the waves of coldness and horror that swept over him whenever one of those wretched Dementors passed his cell. Compared to this, even death would mean freedom.

He could feel it already, all around him, every day – death. Death was a frequent visitor to this place. It seemed to hover above the prison, keeping a keen eye on all the lost souls inside these walls, just waiting to strike.

"Come and get me," he whispered into the darkness, barely audible. "Why don't you just come and get me."

"_It's not time yet."_

The reply was no more than a whisper, and he knew that nobody else could have heard it. He stared into the opposite corner of his cell, convinced that he saw movement in the darkness.

But he knew there was nothing there. He was just hearing voices again, seeing things. Azkaban was the kind of place that could do this to you. But he wasn't worried about losing his mind; it might make things easier.

"When will the time come?" he asked in a whisper.

"_That's not yours to know."_

Severus grinned broadly, his eyes glittering. A madman's smile.

Yes, a madman was what he'd become. And long before they'd locked him up in here. It really had taken him quite a while to realise that.

Looking back and remembering, he could see himself standing next to a dead man, laughing. A man he'd killed. He could hear the screams of his victims echoing in his ears, and he remembered how they'd been kneeling at his feet, begging him for mercy. But he'd never shown them any. He'd held lives in his hands, lives he could have spared, but he'd taken them. Just because he could. Because he'd had the power. He'd spread terror, he'd tortured and he'd killed – and he'd had his fun doing so.

He should really have noticed a little sooner what he'd become.

If he could turn back time... well, if he could, but he couldn't. Nobody could. He'd just have to live with his past and everything he'd done. Or rather, he'd have to die with it. They didn't have any reason to let him live. He probably didn't deserve it anyway, and maybe he didn't even want to.

Again and again, he'd taken too much; now it might be time for him to pay.

He leaned to the side, resting his head against the wall, the stone felt cold against his skin. He felt so tired. All he wanted to do was sleep. But it was difficult for him to find any sleep, in here, even more so.

He didn't need the Dementors to make the images appear, closing his eyes was usually enough. That's when they all came back to haunt him, to stare at him out of accusing eyes, to ask him why and to remind him of the guilt he carried.

Guilt. Another frequent visitor to this place, always accompanied by regret. Guilt and regret, they were the ones haunting him and showing him these images that he didn't want to see.

But did he really regret, or did he just feel sorry for himself now? It was difficult to tell one feeling from another. And it didn't matter anyway because no one would care.

Severus closed his eyes.

He couldn't turn back time, but if only he'd get a chance to make up for his mistakes, he'd take it, no matter the cost. He'd sworn that to himself long ago already, at a time when he didn't have the guts to turn away from his master. Maybe it hadn't even been that, maybe he'd just never had the courage to face the man he'd become.

"Just one chance," he whispered, his eyes still closed.

"_Do you deserve it?"_ the darkness asked in return.

Severus didn't open his eyes. He knew there was nothing out there in the darkness; it was hiding deep in the darkness he carried inside of himself. The darkness that had always been there and always would be, the darkness that had tightened its grip around him so long ago and would never set him free again.

-end-


	3. Time and Tide

_Disclaimer: Nothing you recognise belongs to me and I'm not making any money with this._

* * *

Time and Tide

"There's still one problem, though," Minerva McGonagall said and put her teacup down onto the desk in front of her.

Dumbledore sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Yes. We need one of them."

"And there's no way we could ever make one of them turn against their master."

"But that's our only choice," the Headmaster said. He took another lemon cookie from the plate between them and turned his head to stare out of the window into the night. "I'm sure you remember Severus Snape?"

"Of course I do," McGonagall replied. "Very intelligent, very headstrong, with a great talent for getting himself into trouble somehow. But he's not the one you had in mind, is he?"

"He was arrested six weeks ago and is currently awaiting his trial," Dumbledore said, as he turned back to face her and reached out to open the upper drawer of his desk. He took out a brown paper folder and placed it on the table.

McGonagall leaned forward, opened the folder and quickly scanned the top page. She'd seen a couple of these Ministry files and knew what to look for. After she'd finished reading, she took a close look at the black and white photograph in the upper left corner. "Twenty. He looks younger," she said softly and leaned back in her chair again. "Why him?"

"He hasn't been a Death Eater for too long yet, and he hasn't been in prison for too long," the Headmaster replied. "And I have a feeling that he'd be the right choice."

McGonagall smiled at him. "Well, Albus, if your feeling tells you so, I'll always rely on it," she said. "Nonetheless – how much havoc could he cause should he decide not to follow your plan?"

"Not too much," Dumbledore replied. "And I won't put this plan into action at any price; I'll have to speak to him, then I'll make up my mind."

#-#

Albus Dumbledore made his visit to Azkaban two days later. He'd been waiting in the visitor's room for almost twenty minutes before two guards entered and led the prisoner inside. The young man shoulder length black hair, pale skin and was wearing dark pants and a loose dark shirt. When their eyes met, he sneered at the Headmaster.

The heavy chains around his wrists and ankles caused a rattling sound as the guards made him sit down in a chair at the table in the middle of the room. Dumbledore waited for the guards to leave and then sat down opposite him. He folded his arms and gave the prisoner a long look, noticing that the younger man avoided meeting his eyes.

"How are you?" Dumbledore asked after a while.

"Splendid," the younger wizard replied.

"I hear your trial is set for next Thursday."

Dumbledore got no reply. He'd always known Severus Snape was rather stubborn, so it didn't surprise him.

"I came here to offer my help," Dumbledore said.

Severus snorted. "I don't need your help."

"It's rather obvious that you need _someone's_ help. Do you still trust in your fellow Death Eaters to help you now?"

The younger man said nothing and just stared down at the floor. It was beginning to become hard for him to keep up his defiant attitude. But he didn't want any help. Asking for help was for the weak, and he wasn't weak.

"Look at where they got you," Dumbledore said.

Again, there was no reaction. Dumbledore stood up, pulled a copy of the Daily Prophet out from under his cloak and slammed it down on the table. "There, look at it!" he said. "They tortured and killed six innocent people. A young woman and an eight year old boy. Look at it! Is that what you wanted?"

Severus turned his head away, not wanting to look and not wanting to know. He'd had enough time to think about a few things since he'd been arrested. Of course, Dumbledore couldn't know that he'd broken with the Dark Side long before; many times he'd thought about just running away and going into hiding, but he'd never dared to try to pull it off.

"Now, even if they got you out of here – do you want to return to them and live your life as a wanted criminal?"

"What do you want from me?" Severus asked in a low voice.

"I want to help you. Because I think that you want more than to just get out of this alive. I want to give you a chance to redeem yourself."

Severus shook his head at the older wizard. "You think you know me so well, don't you? But you have no idea who I am, you have no idea what I think and why I do the things I do."

"I think that you regret joining the Dark Side," Dumbledore said calmly, taking his seat again. "When you joined them, you were an angry young man who thought that this was the way to make the whole world pay for anything anyone had ever done to you. I think you realised pretty quickly that you'd made a mistake, but you couldn't see a way out of it anymore." He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest. "Just tell me if I'm wrong, I'm willing to listen. I have a lot of time, and I can't imagine that you're in a hurry to get back into your cell either."

"Why would _you_ help me?" Severus asked, looking at him out of narrowed eyes. "You want something from me. Tell me what it is and we can talk about it."

"As I was saying, I want to give you a chance to redeem yourself. Of course, that would require some effort on your part as well," Dumbledore said and stood up. "You have twenty-four hours to make up your mind."

Having said this, Dumbledore turned away from him and strode towards the door, leaving behind a rather puzzled and surprised young man.

#-#

Back in his cell, Severus found himself actually thinking about his old Headmaster's offer. He'd wanted to turn it down immediately, but sitting here in this dark windowless room, there was only one thought prominent in his mind: how much worse could it get?

He was facing a death sentence. And even if his master would help him to escape, old Mad-Eye and his fellow Aurors would try to hunt him down till the end of their days. He'd slipped through Alastor Moody's fingers a couple of times before he'd finally been caught, and he was convinced that the Auror had taken this rather personally.

What he couldn't understand was why Dumbledore had come to _him_. It was obvious that he wanted something from him. He needed a Death Eater. But there were others. Why had he chosen him? Maybe the old man thought him to be naïve enough to just believe whatever he told him. But he wouldn't be so stupid again. He'd made that mistake before.

Still, from the position he was in, he didn't really have anything to lose by at least asking the Headmaster what he wanted from him in return.

#-#

Dumbledore came back the next afternoon, just like he'd said. Severus didn't waste much time sitting around and saying nothing; he was too curious to find out what the Headmaster had in mind.

"What is it you want me to do?" he asked as soon as the guards had left them alone.

"I want you to become our spy and to help us to defeat your master."

Severus gave him a disbelieving look. "And how on earth am I supposed to do that?"

"Let that be my worry. In return for fulfilling your duties, I will assist you in your trial and make sure that your name will be cleared."

"And then what? I become _your_ loyal servant instead of the Dark Lord's?"

"Exactly," Dumbledore said. "It's your choice. If you agree, I'll pick you up tomorrow morning and take you back to Hogwarts with me."

He could get out of here. Tomorrow. Severus didn't care anymore where he'd go or whether he'd have to sell his soul for it, as long as he could just get out of here. Every hour he spent in here was torture and even though he'd tried to deny it to himself, he knew that he couldn't sustain himself much longer.

"I agree," he said.

Dumbledore nodded. "Tomorrow morning."

#-#

Severus hadn't expected that returning to Hogwarts would feel so good. But after a few weeks in Azkaban, probably all other places looked like paradise.

It was summer, so luckily there were no students around. Actually, there was no one at all aside from Dumbledore, McGonagall and Filch. The caretaker seemed not to care about his presence at all, but Severus was sure that McGonagall didn't quite share the Headmaster's opinion about his being here. She'd greeted him with a nod and a look of open distrust, but she hadn't spoken a word to him yet. Around noon, Dumbledore had allowed him to wander through the school on his own for an hour, and he'd soon noticed that a grey tabby was following him wherever he went. It wouldn't really have been more obvious if she'd followed him around in her human form, but Severus decided to pretend that he hadn't noticed her.

He hadn't gotten a lot of sleep the night before, or on most of the nights since he'd been locked up in Azkaban actually, so he spent most of the afternoon asleep in one of the guest rooms before he went up to the Headmaster's office early in the evening.

When he entered the room, Dumbledore and McGonagall were waiting for him.

"Sit down, please," the Headmaster greeted him and Severus took a seat next to McGonagall who kept eyeing him suspiciously, obviously uncomfortable with having to be near him. It didn't surprise him; most people felt uncomfortable in the presence of a Death Eater.

"I'm going to explain to you now why you're here," Dumbledore said. "Are you familiar with the Atteritus curse?"

"I've heard of it," Severus replied. On its own, it was a completely harmless spell. All it did was to weaken its victim over a certain amount of time to prepare it for a second, deadly curse.

"Have you ever used it?"

"No." It was a rather seldom used curse; there were a lot of simpler and more effective ways to kill someone.

"I want you to cast it at him."

Severus shook his head. "That's impossible. I'd be dead before even opening my mouth."

"I know," Dumbledore said. "I don't want you to cast it at him here. Not _now_."

Severus arched an eyebrow at him.

"We will send you back to a time when he was still just Tom Riddle. There you will cast the curse at him to prepare for our attack in the future."

"Then why don't you simply tell me to kill him then and there?" Severus asked.

"You remember what I taught you about time travel, don't you?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes," Severus said slowly. "Whatever has happened, will happen."

"Exactly. It's impossible to go back and change the present, but it's possible to go back and influence the future."

"How far back?"

"About fifty years."

"How? There's no way to go back further than a few days at most."

"There are ways," Dumbledore said. "However, the time the traveller will be able to spend in the past is limited, and it will only work if he has a close link to a person in this past."

Severus nodded. "I see. That's why you needed a Death Eater."

"Yes. The jump through time is linked to a certain person, Tom Riddle in this case. It will take you into his immediate vicinity, and you'll have half an hour at the very most to accomplish your goal. But that's merely a guess; we've never done this before, so you might actually just have a few minutes."

"I don't even have my wand," Severus said.

"Yes, I know. It's still with the Ministry," the Headmaster replied. "However, we got a substitute wand for you that should suit you well enough."

"And when will I leave?" Severus asked.

"Tonight. If you are willing?"

"I am."

He wasn't willing to sell his soul to the old man, but he'd at least do this as long as there was something in it for him. Working for Dumbledore could hardly be worse than working for the Dark Lord. Of course, being found out as a spy would result in his death, but the same fate would await him if he turned against the Headmaster, so it didn't really matter which side he stood on. All this time he'd been waiting for a chance to finally make a choice of his own free will again, and this was obviously as good as it would get. He wouldn't let this chance pass him by.

After he'd left the Headmaster's office, he lingered in the dark corridor for a few minutes until he heard the door again. He waited until McGonagall had reached the end of the stairs and had stepped onto the corridor before he approached her.

"You don't trust me," he said softly.

McGonagall winced at hearing his voice; she wasn't used to people sneaking up on her like that. She turned to face him and gave him a long thoughtful look.

"Prove me wrong," she said in a low voice and continued on her way, leaving him standing alone in the middle of the corridor.

"Yes, Ma'am," he said more to himself. "I will."

He'd given up caring about what other people thought of him ages ago, but for some reason, this was different. Maybe because of the way she'd said it. She wasn't waiting for him to fail; she'd sounded as if she really wanted him to prove her wrong.

#-#

It was getting close to midnight when Dumbledore decided that it was time to put his plan into action. He'd given him detailed instructions on where to wait for Riddle and Severus had spent over an hour practising the Atteritus curse until the Headmaster had finally been pleased with the outcome. At least it had given him time to get used to his new wand, but with McGonagall and Dumbledore watching him all the time, he'd felt as if he was going through his NEWTs a second time, and he was glad when it was finally over.

"It takes three people to set up the portal," Dumbledore explained. "Severus, you'll have to initiate the portal, and we will assist you in activating it."

Dumbledore took a rolled up parchment from his desk and handed it to him. "This is the incantation. You'll cast the spell at the candle in front of the wall over there, then the portal will open up."

"All right," Severus muttered. He'd never done anything like this and didn't have much of an idea what Dumbledore was talking about, but he was convinced that the Headmaster would have mentioned it if there was anything problematic about it.

He unrolled the parchment and scanned the five lines written in black ink. It was definitely the longest incantation he'd ever seen.

He took a step towards the candle, pointed his wand at it, cleared his throat and began reading the incantation. As he was reading the words, he felt a surge of energy run through him – magic, too powerful for him to control it.

The naked wall behind the candle began to shimmer and the solid stones seemed to disappear and were replaced by the view of a nightly landscape, blurred and hazy as if reflected by the surface of a lake.

Standing to either side of him, Dumbledore and McGonagall raised their wands and a long dark tunnel formed in the center of the shimmering image.

"Your turn," the Headmaster said. "Good luck."

Severus nodded and stepped forward, right through where only a few seconds ago there had still been a solid wall. He could smell the humid air and felt the warmth of the summer night as he walked on, and then suddenly the tunnel and the Headmaster's office disappeared, and he found himself standing all alone in the middle of a dark landscape.

On a small hill in front of him, he saw a big old house, the Riddle House. Tonight, Tom Riddle would come here to kill his father. Now, all Severus had to do was to wait for him.

Riddle had most probably apparated directly into the house, but not knowing the house and where to apparate, Severus would have to sneak up there and break in instead.

He lingered in front of the gates a little, walking up and down and glancing around, wondering if he should simply climb over it or if it would be wiser to try entering the grounds from somewhere where he was less likely to be seen.

Then he noticed movement on the other side of the iron fence. It was a man, and he was limping. The man stopped walking, turned to look at him and Severus quickly started walking down the path leading along the fence, trying to look as unsuspicious as possible. Obviously, it had been good enough, because a moment later he could see the man limping away again.

Severus stood hidden in the shadows for another moment before he remembered that he didn't have any time to waste.

He continued on his way along the fence until he felt that he'd gotten far enough away from that strange man. Then he climbed over the iron fence and under the cover of night he made his way towards the house.

He unlocked the back door and entered the dark house. It was totally quiet, which meant that Tom Riddle had most likely already finished his job here.

Severus crossed the kitchen, walked along the corridor and hid in a small stone alcove, careful not to touch the suit of armour standing in it. Dumbledore had described everything to him very well, and he'd told him to wait at this very spot, so that was what he'd do. He closed his eyes for a moment, concentrated and whispered the spell that made him melt into the shadows, invisible to anyone who didn't run straight into him.

He held his wand tightly in his hand, peering into the darkness, waiting for something to happen. He could hear his own breathing, but nothing else. He just hoped that Riddle was still here and that Dumbledore hadn't sent him back too late.

Then he heard footsteps. Severus held his breath. Slowly walking down the stairs came a young man, almost still a boy, probably even younger than he himself. Looking at him, it was hard to believe that he was soon to become the most feared dark wizard this world had ever seen.

What if he just killed him? So much pain and sorrow would never happen if Riddle died here and now. But there was nothing he could do. It was impossible. He knew it, but it was still difficult to accept.

Severus felt his heart beating faster as the young man approached him. As soon as Riddle had finally walked past him, Severus pointed his wand at him and whispered the spell, inaudible against the sound of his footsteps on the wooden floor.

Riddle didn't noticed anything; he just walked on, down the corridor and into the living room.

Severus remained hidden in the shadows until a moment later, he heard the familiar sound of someone disapparating nearby. Just for safety, he waited a few more minutes, listening intently for anything that might indicate someone else's presence in the house, but he was obviously alone now.

He leaned back against the wall, staring into the darkness around him. The portal would open up somewhere close to him, so he didn't feel the need to take the risk of sneaking out of here again. It was bad enough already that that bloody housekeeper had seen him lingering around in front of the gates.

Severus took a deep breath. He'd done what Dumbledore had asked him to do; would the Headmaster do what he'd promised? What _could_ Dumbledore actually do for him? And why should he? He had what he wanted, after all. It was probably a stupid idea to rely on him.

He could simply stay here. Actually, Dumbledore had helped him to a perfect escape; nobody could ever come after him, and nobody here would ever search for him.

Before he could really delve into this thought, he saw the wall in front of him changing and the portal opening up.

Severus was quite aware that if he wanted to make a decision, he'd have to make it quickly. He could do the right thing, or he could try to take the easy way out.

If life had taught him anything, it was that what looked like the easy way often turned out to be the opposite. When they'd locked him up in Azkaban, he'd decided that it was time to stop running away. He couldn't run forever, and he wouldn't start with it again now; it had never gotten him anywhere.

He stepped forward, into the dark tunnel, and a moment later he found himself standing in the middle of Dumbledore's office again.

"Did everything go as planned?" the Headmaster asked.

"Yes," Severus replied in a low voice as he placed the wand back on Dumbledore's desk. He was convinced that it would make everyone feel a lot more comfortable if he didn't have a wand in his hands;, including himself.

"You cast the spell at him? Unnoticed?" McGonagall asked.

"Yes, I did. But there was a man, he saw me at the gates. Probably the housekeeper or something like that."

"The gardener," Dumbledore said. "He mentioned it to the police, but of course no evidence was ever found."

They stood in silence for a moment, and Severus could feel their eyes on him even though he didn't look at either Dumbledore or McGonagall.

"What now?" he asked. "Are you going to take me back to Azkaban now?"

"Yes," Dumbledore said. "You know that I have to."

Severus nodded.

"Although there's no need to take you back right now, we can just as well wait until tomorrow morning. You can stay in the guest room for the night."

"Thank you, sir," Severus said, lowering his eyes to the ground. He couldn't understand what made the Headmaster so sure that he'd actually done as he'd been told to. H could just as easily have done nothing at all and simply be lying to him now.

Dumbledore smiled at him. "Why should you not have done it?" he asked softly. "It was the only logical and sensible thing to do."

Severus frowned at him. More than once during his time as a student he'd thought that the widespread rumour about the Headmaster being able to read his students' minds might actually be true, but he'd given up believing in that myth a while ago. Maybe he shouldn't have.

"Professor McGonagall will lead you back down to your quarters."

Severus nodded and followed the Deputy Headmistress out of the office.

They walked along the corridors in silence, their footsteps echoing loudly through the empty castle. Only now, Severus realised how long ago it seemed that he'd left Hogwarts, and yet it hadn't even been three years. Too much had happened since then.

"Proof enough?" he asked once they'd reached the door to the guest room.

"Do you think it is?" McGonagall asked in return.

He stood still for a moment, staring at the floor. He'd wanted her to say it was, but he knew it wasn't. Not nearly. Without another word, he turned away from her and went into the room, closing the door behind him.

-end-  



	4. Start of Term

_Disclaimer: Nothing you recognise belongs to me and I'm not making any money with this._

* * *

Start of Term

The sun had set a while ago but Severus hadn't really noticed. For hours, he'd been sitting there, his arms folded on his desk and his chin resting on his arms. Right in front of him there was a stack of books, the topmost, a dark red one entitled 'The Theory and Practice of Demonology', partly blocked his view. A couple of times, he'd contemplated moving it aside so he could get a better view when staring at the opposite wall of his office, but he'd decided that it wasn't worth the effort. There wasn't really anything interesting to see on that wall.

There was a knock on the door and reluctantly he straightened up in his chair.

"Come in," he said, piling up some papers that had been scattered on his desk in order to look busy.

"The students will be here in less than half an hour," McGonagall said and frowned at him. "What are you doing there?"

"Working?" he replied.

"The term hasn't even started yet."

"I'm aware of that, but some of us use this time to prepare for their new classes, you know?"

"Don't be smart with me, will you?" she said with a smile and slowly walked over to his desk. "Do you have your list?"

"Yes," he said, pulled a parchment out of the stack of papers he'd just built and handed it to her. "What's the stake?" he asked.

"Five Galleons."

"How about ten?"

"Ten? You must be rather sure this year," McGonagall said, scanning the list of first years as well as the letters he'd written next to each name.

"Too many familiar names," Severus muttered. He realised that he'd actually written down all the kids whose parents he knew to have been Death Eaters for his own house; obviously he wasn't totally unbiased either.

McGonagall's eyes lingered on the name Harry Potter and the G he'd written next to it. It wasn't too difficult to guess which house that boy would be sorted into; after all, both of his parents had been Gryffindors.

"One in particular, I suppose?" she asked.

Severus wasn't quite sure whether she meant Malfoy or Potter by that, but he didn't feel like discussing either of them.

"Did Albus talk to you?" McGonagall asked.

"I managed to evade him," Severus replied. Dumbledore had tried to have a word with him for the last three days, and it had indeed been difficult to constantly appear too busy.

"You should really go and see him tonight."

"I know what he's going to tell me already, there's no use in me stealing his time by sitting around in his office for an hour and listening to it."

McGonagall sighed and gave him a thoughtful look.

"I'll be up in the Great Hall in a few minutes," he said before she got a chance to make another one of her suggestions.

"All right. But I'd like to talk to you after dinner."

Severus rolled his eyes at her as she turned to leave.

"I saw that," she said, walking towards the door. "Now wipe that incredibly annoyed look off your face and come upstairs."

"Yes, Ma'am," he replied lazily, getting up from his chair.

#-#

By the time he arrived in the Great Hall, most of the students were sitting at their house tables already, but the first years weren't there yet. He took his seat at the high table next to Quirrel who greeted him with a nervous smile, messing up his name with his usual annoying stutter.

Luckily enough, before he had the chance to start any sort of conversation, the doors to the hall opened, allowing the new students inside.

Severus kept a close eye on them as they walked towards the other end of the hall, his black eyes darting from one face to another. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle were the first ones he spotted. Then a red haired boy – no doubt another Weasley. How many children did those people actually have? Not too many more, he hoped.

And then he saw him, the one he'd been looking for. The boy. The one who'd forced the Dark Lord to his knees. The one who'd done what he'd never been able to do. And he looked like his father. Just like him.

Simply looking at him brought back all those memories of bloody James Potter and his friends, and it made him want to slap that boy across the face. But he'd have to wait. Soon the kid would be sitting in his classroom, and then he'd get his chance.

He watched the sorting ceremony without paying much attention, always keeping his eyes on the young Potter instead. He acted just like his father, he moved like him and he had the same stupid smile. And of course, he ended up in the same house. Fortunately, because Severus definitely wouldn't have wanted that kid in _his_ house. Although he seriously doubted that Potter could ever have been a Slytherin; but then, life could be a bitch, so it was always best to expect the worst.

Of course, all the Gryffindors cheered when famous Harry Potter was made one of them. Dumbledore and McGonagall looked very pleased as well. But somehow the Headmaster always did. He'd have been pleased even if Potter had ended up in Slytherin. Because he was an optimist, always convinced that things would turn out good in the end.

At certain times, Severus had wished that he himself could be more like that as well, but he'd had to realise that he didn't have the strength it took.

Dumbledore was strong. And he was powerful. It was a special kind of power, different, one nobody else possessed. So obvious and yet all these kids couldn't see who the man behind those sparkling blue eyes really was. He himself hadn't seen it either when he'd been younger. But now he did. Light. Maybe one needed to have seen darkness like he had to be able to see the light that radiated from this man.

The Bloody Baron swept along the table right in front of him, pulling him out of his thoughts.

Severus glanced over at Potter again and kept doing so throughout dinner, almost forgetting about the food on his plate. He wasn't very hungry anyway.

Potter was facing him, but until now, he hadn't really looked at him even once. Of course not, there was no reason. The boy didn't even know him. Not yet.

And he seemed to have better things to do anyway; at least he looked rather busy chatting with his friends. Just like his father; obviously all he had to do to make a dozen new friends was to walk into the room. Of course all those dumb Gryffindors had fallen for him immediately.

Quirrel had started talking again, and Severus turned towards him, replying a few words every now and then, pretending he was actually listening. He was good at that; barely anyone ever noticed when he wasn't even paying attention.

And then it happened: Severus glanced over at Potter, their eyes met, they stared at each other for an endless second, then the boy grimaced and looked away again.

He had his mother's eyes. Severus had noticed it immediately, and for the rest of the evening, he didn't look back at the Gryffindor house table once.

#-#

He'd almost made it out of the Great Hall when McGonagall seemed to suddenly remember that she'd wanted to talk to him and called him back to wait for her. He did, though only reluctantly. He couldn't hide from her anyway, the last few years at this school had taught him that.

"Come on, we're going for a walk," she said as she walked past him and out of the hall.

"I don't want to go for a walk," he muttered in return.

"We'll go anyway."

Severus sighed and followed her across the entrance hall and out through the wooden doors.

"You can't hate him for being his father's son," McGonagall said quietly once they'd put a considerable distance between themselves and the castle.

"Why not?"

"It's not doing you any good either, you know."

"Please don't start this over with me again. Not tonight."

"All right," McGonagall said and they walked on in silence for a few minutes before she spoke again.

"But I have to let you know that should I become aware of you taking out on that boy whatever grudge you might still be carrying against his father, I'm not going to tolerate it."

"Yes, of course..." Severus muttered.

He'd expected that much; Harry Potter was one of her Gryffindors now, just like his father had been. And Severus knew better than to believe that she didn't favour her own students over those from the other houses. He remembered well enough all the occasions when she'd let James Potter and his friends get away with something that he was convinced would have earned someone like himself a detention.

"Anything else or may I go back inside?" he asked.

"Why are you mad at me now?"

"I'm not. I was merely wondering whether there's a reason why I'm still standing around out here."

"Come on, I want to show you something," McGonagall said and started walking again.

Severus hesitated for a moment but then followed her across the grounds to a small hill near the lake where she stopped and looked up into the sky.

"There. Look," she said softly.

Hesitantly he followed her gaze and looked up into the dark sky. "The moon," he said. "I've seen it before."

"I bet you haven't really looked at it for years," she replied. "It's such a beautiful night; the black sky, the silver moon and the ancient stars."

Severus took a deep breath. Stargazing wasn't really one of his favourite activities; actually he usually avoided anything that left him too much time to think about other things.

"I know you're worried," McGonagall said. "For eleven years, the boy's been safely out of your reach. But now he's been put back into your sphere of responsibility and that troubles you, because you still feel indebted to his father. You couldn't save his life, now you have to save his son's."

Severus stared down at the flat dark surface of the lake and shrugged his shoulders.

"Maybe," he muttered eventually. "It's all starting again now."

"We knew it wasn't over yet," McGonagall said.

"Yeah, but still...," he let his voice trail off, staring absent-mindedly into the darkness.

"It's harder to keep pushing it away while seeing the boy walking around here every day," she said.

Severus nodded. It was indeed difficult to not think of so many things; no matter how much he hated the idea, his whole past seemed to be to linked to Potter in one way or another.

"Nonetheless," she continued. "If at all possible, would you please at least _try_ to act like a normal person towards him?"

"I can't promise," Severus said.

"Do me a favour and try. You have enough past to cope with, maybe you should just let rest what doesn't necessarily have to be meddled with."

Severus thought about it for a moment; she definitely had a point there.

"I'll do my job; I'll teach him, and I'll keep an eye on him. But don't expect me to be friendly."

McGonagall nodded. "Let's go back inside," she said and they both started walking back up to the castle.

-end-


	5. Stand My Ground

_Disclaimer: Nothing you recognise belongs to me and I'm not making any money with this._

_Set during the 4th book, the night of the Yule ball._

* * *

Stand My Ground

It was past midnight already and Severus Snape stood alone on a balcony half way up the Astronomy tower. Watching the snowflakes falling softly onto the already snow covered grounds, he was too lost in thought to even notice how cold it was.

Slowly but surely, he was beginning to realise that what he'd always feared most was going to happen very soon. Igor was right; it was happening already.

Of course he'd noticed it quite a while ago but he'd chosen to ignore it. Because he didn't want it to happen. He didn't want to be drawn into this again.

Severus had gotten used to his life here at Hogwarts over the years. He wanted to keep it this way. It was an easy life. Or rather, it had been; because now it would change.

It was all coming back now. His past and everything he'd thought he'd put behind him was coming back to haunt him. The Dark Mark on his arm had become clearer day by day, and with it the memories had become clearer as well.

He didn't want it all to happen again. It had been so many years; things had changed. Maybe even _he_ had changed.

And he just wanted it to be over once and for all.

But he didn't have a choice; there was no escape. Igor could just run away, he had no obligations. Severus did. He knew what Dumbledore would expect from him. He couldn't turn his back and run.

And he couldn't deny it any longer; it was merely a matter of time now.

He'd have to tell Dumbledore. Tonight. He'd wasted too much time already, wishing it away, waiting and hoping that it wasn't true.

Instinctively, he seized his left forearm with his right hand. It had been so many years ago, it almost seemed like a different life to him. But he could feel it all around him now, getting stronger and drawing nearer, invading his world again.

And he'd have to face it.

He was worried. Fifteen years ago, he'd almost enjoyed playing hide and seek with the Dark Lord; fooling him, maybe even putting his own life at risk. Often times it hadn't been much more than a game to him. He'd never worried much about what he was doing, and it had always worked out; he'd been invincible. But he'd grown up a little since then, and he wasn't sure if he was still up to it.

And something else had changed: he had something to lose. Back then it had been different. He'd had nothing worth living for. Now, he had a life. And though it might not be a life one would dream about, it wasn't bad. At least it was good enough for him to not want to lose it.

But he'd known what he'd signed up for when he'd made his promise to the Headmaster, even though he'd hoped that the day would never come. Of course, he'd known that it was rather naïve to hope that the Dark Lord would be gone for good, but with every day that had passed, and every year that had gone by, he'd become more convinced that it might actually be possible.

Severus hated to admit it, but he was afraid of having to return to his master and he was afraid of finally being exposed as a spy. So often it had been so close; he'd simply been lucky. But luck had never been a very faithful friend to him.

If they found out about him, he'd die. Then nothing and nobody could help him.

But that was the risk he'd have to take. There were bigger things at stake here than just one man's meaningless little life.

He couldn't look away any longer, no matter how hard it was for him to accept the truth. He'd go to Dumbledore and tell him right now. He'd do what would be necessary.

He took a deep breath of the cold and fresh air and for just a few more peaceful minutes he remained standing there, watching the snowflakes. Then he turned away and went back into the castle to go searching for the Headmaster.

-end-


	6. Do or Die

_Disclaimer: Nothing you recognise belongs to me and I'm not making any money with this._

_Set at the end of the 4th book after Snape returned to Voldemort._

* * *

Do Or Die

Severus stood in the middle of his office and looked around in search of something to do. He didn't want to go to bed yet; he didn't want to read a book, and he didn't want to grade homework. Very quickly he realised that apart from these activities, he wasn't going to find anything to occupy him, at least not here.

Dumbledore had said that there probably wouldn't be any need for him to come and see him right after returning from meeting with his fellow Death Eaters, and he'd been right; he had nothing of interest to report, so it could very well wait till the next morning. Though reporting to the Headmaster would at least have given him something to do. And for some reason, something to do was all he wanted at the moment.

His eyes fell on the magazine on his desk. It wasn't his, he'd borrowed it from Minerva over a week ago; it was definitely about time to give it back to her.

He crossed the room, picked up the magazine and then looked up at the clock on the shelf. It was just past ten o'clock, not really too late to pay her a little visit.

Severus reached the door to her quarters without meeting anyone else. Standing in the corridor, he hesitated for a moment, then he straightened his robes and knocked. She didn't call him in immediately, but instead, she walked up to the door to open it herself which made it obvious that she'd actually intended to get rid of her visitor rather quickly.

"Oh, you're back already," she greeted him, a surprised look on her face.

"Yes. I wanted to bring you back the magazine I borrowed from you," he said and held it out to her. "Sorry it's taken me so long."

"You really didn't have to," McGonagall replied. "Thank you. Would you like to come in for a moment?"

He wanted to, but he was pretty sure that she'd have preferred to be on her own. "No," he said and shook his head. "It's quite late already."

McGonagall gave him a close look, then she took a step backwards into the room and motioned him inside. "Come on, just for a few minutes."

Somewhat reluctantly, he followed her inside, and she closed the door behind him.

"So how did it go?" she asked.

Severus merely shrugged his shoulders. "Nothing special, nothing unexpected," he muttered. It was only half true, for he felt that he really _should_ have expected everything he'd seen and heard at tonight's meeting with the Dark Lord, but for some reason he still hadn't been prepared for it.

"Why don't you take a seat?" McGonagall said, gesturing towards the fireplace. "I was just about to have a cup of tea, may I offer you one as well?"

Severus shook his head. "No, thank you," he said but even though he wasn't very interested in tea, he slowly walked across the room towards the sofa in front of the fireplace and sat down. He glanced around and then turned his head to stare into the brightly flickering flames, his thoughts quickly drifting off again.

"Now, talk to me," McGonagall said as she sat down on the sofa next to him instead of taking the armchair on the other side of the fireplace. "What was it like?"

"He's changed," Severus said slowly, his eyes still fixed on the bright flames. "He's not a man anymore. Finally he looks like the monster he really is."

"And what did he say?"

"Not much. Basically just that he'll punish all those who doubted him, and that he'll kill the ones who turned away from him."

"But he doesn't suspect you, does he?"

"No. I'm a talented liar; he still believes that I'm one of his most loyal servants. He thinks that my reason for remaining at Hogwarts was my waiting for his return, and actually, he's quite right about that."

McGonagall nodded slowly. Of course she'd always known why he was here, but over the years she hadn't thought about it anymore and had almost forgotten about the true reasons.

She looked at him; looked at how he was sitting there on one end of the sofa, half lying on the armrest and staring into the flames.

"You're worried, aren't you?" she asked softly.

"Yeah."

She put her teacup down on the table and reached over to place a gentle hand on his shoulder. He flinched when she touched him, but he always did.

"You yourself told me how worrying about things to come is no good and merely a waste of precious time, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember," he said softly.

"There's no reason to be worried anyway. You did it once, you'll do it again."

He sat up and lowered his eyes to stare at the ground instead of the flames from now on. "But maybe I've changed," he said softly. "Maybe I'm no longer the man who did it."

"Of course you've changed since then; it's been a long time. But do you believe that keeps you from pulling this off once more?"

"I don't know. I'm not as sure as I used to be," Severus replied. "Being a Death Eater today seems so far away to me; I don't know how to just go back to it now. And actually, I don't _want_ to go back to it either, but of course, I know that I have to."

"No, Severus. Returning to them doesn't make you one of them again. It's just part of doing your job. You haven't been one of them for a long time."

"But it's getting me so close again to everything I left behind."

"That scares you."

"Yes," he whispered. "It scares me."

He took a deep breath, leaned back and closed his eyes. "It's like a drug," he said softly. "Power. That's all it's really about. And power brings out the worst in many people. It can show you who you really are. It showed me that I'm a killer; that I'm violent, unpredictable and dangerous. Now that I have to return to them, I'm just afraid of... losing control again. I'm afraid of doing something I don't want to do."

He turned his head to look at her.

"I understand you," she said. "I understand that you're worried because I know that you never quite trusted yourself. But I'm convinced that your worries are completely unfounded."

"You know what I can be like. You've had me yelling at you and everyone around me, you've seen me throwing things across the room and breaking my hand because I punched the bloody wall."

"You're underestimating the amount of control you actually have over yourself; at least as long as you want to," McGonagall said.

"Do you believe that you know me better than I know myself?" Severus asked softly, giving her a curious look.

"Maybe I do."

Severus smiled weakly. "I hope you're right."

"I always am, you should have realised that by now. We'll get through this. And the only thing you need to worry about is keeping up your defences and making sure they'll never find out what you're really doing."

"They won't," Severus replied. "Lying and deceiving have always come naturally to me."

They sat in silence for a while, and he felt the anxiety and restlessness slowly fading away. Only now he realised how tired he really was; he'd have to leave soon if he didn't want to risk falling asleep right here on this sofa.

"Feeling better?" McGonagall asked after a while.

"Yeah," he said. "Are you kicking me out?"

"You know I never would."

"I should be leaving anyway, it's pretty late already," he said and slowly got to his feet.

McGonagall stood up as well and followed him across the room. "Are you sure you're all right?" she asked once they'd reached the door.

"I'm fine."

"Maybe you should take something against the nightmares."

"Yeah, I'll probably do that." They'd come back to haunt him tonight, he had no doubts about that. "Good night."

"Good night." Minerva stood in the doorway and watched him walk down the corridor until he disappeared around the corner, contemplating whether she should really let him walk away like that.

Her feelings told her to go after him, but she knew better than to do so. She'd known him long enough to know that he was the kind of person you just had to let walk away when he wanted to. Often enough, she'd made the mistake of approaching him instead of waiting for him to come to her.

He wasn't all right, that was obvious. At least to her, it was obvious.

She'd expected that having to return to them would be difficult for him, but he'd looked as if it had struck him far worse than she'd thought it would. Maybe in all these years, he'd changed even more than she'd realised.

Minerva sighed and stepped back into the room, closing the door behind her. Gryffindor would lose points tonight; she'd put her money on that. There was no doubt that Severus would be prowling the castle, and there was also no doubt that at least one of her students would be out there as well to provide him with a reason for taking points from her house.

But she'd gotten used to it by now. Gryffindor had won the House Cup often enough nonetheless. And it would have been only half as much fun if he hadn't been around to take away all those points that had been justly awarded to her students for no other reason than simply because he wanted to.

-end-


	7. Down the Street

_Disclaimer: Nothing you recognise belongs to me and I'm not making any money with this._

_This story is set somewhere after the 5th book. It's a little tribute to the tv show 'The Twilight Zone', so if you don't like that, you may just overlook the paragraphs in italics. The rest of you will please picture Rod Serling stepping into the picture to say these lines ;)_

* * *

Down the Street

_There is a fifth dimension beyond that which is known to man. It is a dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity. It is the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition, and it lies between the pit of man's fears and the summit of his knowledge. This is the dimension of imagination. It is an area we call the Twilight Zone._

_#-#_

It had been another difficult meeting of the Order. They'd constantly become more difficult over the last months; there were just too many people having too many different opinions about certain things, he himself being one of them. Until tonight, he'd listened patiently, but Moody accusing him of defending actions taken by his fellow Death Eaters had been too much for him to stomach. He hadn't said anything, though. He knew better than to risk getting into trouble with that man, so instead of arguing with him, he'd simply left.

As he strode across the entrance hall of the Black family mansion, he heard the door behind him opening and being slammed shut again. Obviously, Moody wouldn't allow him to shake him off so easily.

"What is it, Snape? Did I touch a sore spot?" Alastor Moody called after him. "You can't just walk out on me!"

Severus stopped walking.

"I can see through you," Moody said. "I know what you are."

"Do you?" Snape said in a low voice, slowly turning to face him.

"You're a loyal dog. Loyal to death, ready to kill and die for your master. You'd never bite the hand that feeds you, but you don't give a damn whose hand that might be."

"Yes, you know me so well," Snape hissed, turned away from him again and left the house. Moody didn't follow him.

Once outside, he took a deep breath. It had been a hot day and even though night had settled over the city by now it hadn't become noticeably colder. He didn't like summer.

#-#

_Meet Severus Snape, an ordinary wizard – at first sight. But a closer look shows that he is an angry man leading a life filled with debts he is convinced he can never repay. A man searching for ways to redeem himself. And even though he has been granted a second chance, he's afraid that it won't be enough._

_As he steps out onto the street in a warm summer night, he will learn that even when it seems too late for a second chance, you might still get a first one. At least if the street you're standing on leads straight into the Twilight Zone._

#-#

He shook his head, staring at the ground. There was just no way he could stand Moody any longer. Most people he worked with were people he didn't necessarily like very much, but he could get along with them. But not with him. Moody would never stop it, he'd just never leave him be.

Severus looked around the dark and quiet street to make sure there was no one around who might see him disapparating when he spotted a child standing on the other side of the street. It was a little boy, probably no older than six or seven. The kid didn't seem to have noticed him yet, but he was looking around as if searching for something.

Severus pulled out his pocket watch; it was past eleven already. A little late for a kid that age to be standing around alone in the street. But he was probably just waiting for his parents to pick him up or something. And anyway, it was just some little Muggle boy he'd never seen before – not his responsibility.

He turned away and started walking down the street but came to a halt again after only a few steps. At least he should ask the boy if he was lost.

He sighed at himself and walked back up the street towards where the little boy was still standing next to a streetlamp, looking around but not going anywhere.

The kid noticed him approaching but only quickly glanced up at him without really raising his head.

"Are you all right?" Severus asked.

The boy nodded. Even though Severus wanted to, he couldn't convince himself that that was a good enough answer.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "What are you doing here? Did you get lost?"

"Somewhat," the boy whispered, still not looking at him.

"Meaning?" he asked impatiently.

"I don't know where to go."

Slowly, it dawned on him that this boy hadn't lost his way but might actually be a little runaway; and that was surely more than what he wanted to get involved with at the moment.

He was contemplating simply turning away and leaving when the boy suddenly looked up at him, blinking tears from his eyes. The moment their eyes met, Severus felt a jolt going through his body, as if a curse had hit him. That boy looked oddly familiar to him. Too familiar.

"Don't you remember?" the boy asked.

"Remember what?" Severus muttered absent-mindedly, still staring at the kid.

"Remember what it was like. Remember just wanting to get away. Remember me," the boy said.

Severus swallowed hard. "Who are you?" he asked in a whisper.

"You know who I am."

"No." He shook his head and took a step backwards. "No, I don't."

"You know me," the boy said softly, staring at him. "You know that I am who you were and that you are who I might be."

"No. No, you're not." It just wasn't possible. But those eyes... _his _eyes. He was looking back into his own eyes.

The boy stood staring back at him for a while, then he slowly turned away and started walking down the street. "Come on," he said softly, as he beckoned him to follow. "There's something I want to show you."

Severus hesitated and although he didn't really want to, something made him start following the kid. Keeping his eyes fixed on the little boy all the time, he barely noticed that it kept getting darker around them as they walked until he suddenly found himself surrounded by total blackness.

"There," the boy said eventually and came to a halt.

Severus peered into the darkness ahead of them and as his eyes got used to it, he saw the outlines of a house. He recognised it immediately; it was his parents' house.

He knew it couldn't be. This place wasn't within walking distance of Grimmauld Place and ruins were all that was left of this house. But it was his father's house.

"Do you recognise it?" the boy asked.

"Of course I do," Severus replied. "But it burned down years ago."

"To you, it was years ago. It's all a matter of your point of view."

Severus stood there staring at the house, remembering the last time he'd walked out of it, and the time he'd come back here to see it in ruins. It made him feel sick to see it again; it seemed to sneer down at him out of its black windows, beckoning him inside once again.

"Why do you show me this?" Severus asked.

"I want you to tell me what to do," the boy said.

"Why?"

The boy turned away from the house to face him, but Severus found it hard to look back at him. That boy was his past, something he'd left behind long ago and didn't want to be confronted with again.

"How many times have you longed for a second chance?" the boy asked. "This is it. Just tell me what to do. Tell me what to change and I will make the decisions you wish you'd made."

"You can't. Nobody can change the past."

"_You_ can't. Not with your logic, your beliefs. But I don't depend on your logic."

Severus shook his head at the boy. He was well aware that he was dealing with a very stubborn kid here; but if anything he'd become even more stubborn with the years, and what was even more important – he knew that he was right.

"I won't waste my time explaining this to you because you wouldn't understand it anyway," Severus said.

"You're the one who doesn't understand," the boy replied. "But you don't have to. Just imagine it was possible; you've got nothing to lose by giving it a try. Tell me what to do differently, I'll do it."

Dozens of things came to his mind at once. There were a lot of decisions he wished he hadn't made, too many to count. It made him wonder whether his father might have been right when he'd said that he could never do anything right.

Don't ever join the Dark Lord, that was the first thing he thought of. Don't ever even think about it. Keep your hands off the Dark Arts. Tell the Aurors the truth when they ask you what you saw in your father's house. Don't go back home in the first place; don't give your mother any reason to stay in this house.

If he never became a Death Eater, many lives would be spared. Lives he'd taken. He wouldn't torture and kill. He wouldn't be locked up in Azkaban. And he'd never have to lead the double life of a spy.

But if he never became a spy for Dumbledore, everything he'd done since that day would never be done. And he'd done some useful things. He'd saved lives.

So it was basically just a decision of trading lives he'd taken for lives he'd saved. And lives he still might save.

There was no way of telling which decision might be the right one, but he knew for sure that this decision was not his to make. Not anymore. He had no right to interfere and to change what had happened.

"No," he said. "I can't."

"But isn't that what you always wanted?" the boy asked.

"I thought it was, but it's not."

The boy looked at him out of his big black eyes, then he nodded and turned back towards the dark house. "I understand," he then said softly and started walking up the path leading to the entrance door. "Goodbye."

Severus looked after him even after the boy and the house had been swallowed by the ever-intensifying darkness.

When he turned around, he found himself standing in front of No. 12 Grimmauld Place again. There was the familiar street again, the streetlamps and the houses, but the boy was gone.

He turned back once more but there was nothing unusual to be seen. He took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes, deciding that trying to explain this to himself was probably completely pointless.

#-#

_A man who wished for a chance and then made the decision not to take it. It might be just another decision he will come to regret, or it might be the one to make him stop regretting all those he has made before. What it shows is that perhaps you should take the time to stop and think about what you crave for. Because once you reach your goal and you get what you wished for, you may realise that you spent your life chasing something you never really wanted. Especially if you make your wish in the Twilight Zone._

-end-


	8. How It Ends

_Disclaimer: Nothing you recognise belongs to me and I'm not making any money with this._

_This is the last one, for now. It's set after Voldemort's downfall, so probably during or after the 7th book. Dedicated to Makrillit who made me write this. Thanks to shadowycat for all the beta-reading._

_Thank you everybody for reading, and especially to those who reviewed; I really appreciate it._

* * *

How It Ends

Walking down the long dark corridor made him feel rather uncomfortable. Many years had passed since Severus had last set foot in here, and he'd have preferred never to have come back. Hearing his footsteps echoing from the damp stonewalls brought back too many memories he'd have preferred to keep buried till the end of his days.

He hadn't wanted to come.

But Lucius had wanted to see him. He'd been allowed to see one single person, and instead of speaking to his defence counsel, he'd chosen to waste his only chance at contact with the outside world on him.

Severus followed the guard down a dark spiral staircase and along another corridor.

If someone would have asked him why he'd come here, he couldn't have explained it. He didn't know himself. Maybe he felt like he owed that much to Malfoy. Or maybe he was just curious what he could still want from him now.

Probably Lucius just wanted to look him in the eye when telling him what he thought of him. Traitor and turncoat would be the most harmless words he'd have for him. Snape didn't care; he'd been called worse. And somehow he thought that Malfoy actually had a right to use those names.

The guard led him past another prison guard into a small room with two high barred windows. It was completely empty; there wasn't even a table or a chair, just the naked stonewalls. He heard the heavy door fall closed behind them, and then the man guarding it cast a spell on it to lock it. They seemed to be pretty worried about Lucius slipping through their fingers before his trial. Severus wondered briefly whether these were standard security measures or if it might have something to do with him.

"They'll bring him in a minute," the guard muttered and pointed at the second door on the opposite side of the room.

Severus nodded and then they just stood there in silence, waiting. It was so quiet here that he was sure he heard water dripping from the damp walls. He knew you actually _could_ hear it, if you just listened closely enough. He'd sat up too many nights listening to it.

He remembered the smell down here. It was a mixture of the scent of the ocean surrounding the island, the rusty bars of the cell doors and the damp, dirty stone floors. It was enough to make him feel sick.

"Should I get you a chair or something?" the guard muttered, after finally having noticed that this room was really completely empty.

"No, I'll be fine," Snape replied.

The door on the other side of the room slowly opened and a guard stepped inside. A moment later, Lucius Malfoy entered the room, followed by another guard.

Severus kept his eyes on him as he slowly walked into the room but Lucius just stared at the floor. The guards made their prisoner stand a few steps in front of his visitor, then one of them left again, locking the door behind him.

"Would you leave us alone now?" Severus asked in a low voice.

"No, we can't," the guard who'd led Malfoy inside replied. "It would be against the rules."

"Nobody will ever know," Severus said. "So if you don't mind?"

"Don't hold us responsible if he attacks you," the older guard standing next to Snape muttered, then he started walking towards the door and motioned for his younger colleague to follow.

Severus waited until they'd left the room and disappeared down the corridor. There was only one guard left now, standing near the door. Snape gave him an annoyed glare.

The guard hesitated and then reluctantly moved. "Back in ten minutes," he muttered, and then they were finally alone.

Severus turned back to look at Malfoy again, who finally raised his head to meet his eyes. He didn't look good. Although he looked better than he himself had after they'd locked him up in here; probably because the Dementors weren't here anymore. But Lucius definitely wasn't in a state to attack him, even if it hadn't been for the chains around his wrists and his ankles.

"So?" Severus asked. "Why am I here?"

"Yes, I've been wondering about that as well," Lucius whispered. "I didn't think you'd come."

"What do you want from me?" Severus asked impatiently.

"I wanted to see you," Lucius replied. "And I wanted to ask you."

"Ask me what?"

"Ask you why."

Severus snorted and shook his head at him. "You should have spoken to your lawyer instead."

"I don't care about my trial. I know that I'm already a dead man," Malfoy said. "But before I die, the one thing I want to know is _why_. I want to know why you turned me in."

"Because we played on different sides."

"That's all? After all the years we've known each other?"

"This is not about you and me."

"Of course it is. It was your decision, your choice. You could have let me get away. Easily. If you'd wanted to," Malfoy said. "But you sold me to them. And you sold yourself."

"We all do what we have to do."

"Do we?" Lucius asked, giving him an intent look out of weary eyes. "I've been thinking, you know? I've been wondering about what would have happened if it had been the other way around. If you were the killer, and I was the hero."

"It never would have been the other way around."

"Let's just assume it was; would things be the same now? Would I have turned you in? Or would I have paid your debts for you?"

"You'd have turned me in, in a heartbeat," Severus replied coldly. "Trust me, Lucius – I know you."

"You really seem to think you do," Lucius said, looking straight into his eyes. "I thought we were friends," he added in a low voice.

Severus shook his head; he didn't know what Lucius was aiming at with this little performance and he didn't really want to know. He shouldn't have come here in the first place.

"Severus – I've known you all my life. You were like a brother to me," Malfoy said. "We had our good times, too. Maybe not lately, but we did."

Snape lowered his eyes to the ground. He just couldn't look at him any longer. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he knew that Lucius was right. They'd had their good times.

But times had changed; circumstances had changed. He'd done what he had to do. It had been the right thing to do.

It hadn't even been a difficult decision when he'd been standing face to face with Malfoy. Looking back now, it somehow seemed to him like it should have been.

Lucius hadn't attacked him. He was a good dueller, and he was quick. He could have killed him or at least disarmed him, but he hadn't.

But Severus had attacked him, without even thinking twice.

"Why did you change sides?" Lucius asked. "What did they offer you? Don't tell me it was money."

"You wouldn't understand it," Severus said in a low voice.

"You wanted to do the right thing, didn't you? Clear your conscience?"

"Maybe," Severus muttered.

"Yeah. That suits you." Lucius nodded. "But you're right – your conscience is all you can take to your grave."

They stood there in an awkward silence for a while without looking at each other. Severus heard footsteps and looked up to see that the guards had returned. It seemed about time for him to leave.

"Don't blame yourself for letting me down," Malfoy said. "You might be right; maybe I'd have done the same."

Severus nodded, turned away from him and slowly took a few steps towards the door. He couldn't shake off the feeling that he'd done him wrong by assuming that he'd have done the same. Maybe Lucius Malfoy would have showed more loyalty and integrity if he'd been in the same situation.

One of the guards unlocked the door, and Snape stepped out into the corridor.

"Severus!" Lucius called him back, and he turned around to face him one last time. "Keep your eyes open. Doing the right thing can make you quite a few enemies."

"I know," Snape replied and followed the guard down the corridor without looking back again.

It hadn't been a threat – it was a warning. So Lucius was showing his responsible side once again. When they'd been younger, Lucius had often been the one who'd kept an eye on him. He'd seemed to feel responsible for him, probably because he was a few years older. More than once Lucius had helped him, more than once, he'd protected him. Severus had learned from him and Malfoy had also been the one who'd introduced him to the Dark side.

And part of him had always blamed Lucius for that. Whenever he'd felt too weak to take responsibility for something he'd done, he'd had Lucius to hold responsible. Severus had never said a word to him about it, but secretly he'd often blamed Malfoy for his becoming a Death Eater. And he'd hated him for it.

Now though, he had to admit that it might have been unjustified and unreasonable. Lucius hadn't done this to harm him; maybe he'd even thought that it was best for him to follow in his footsteps. And in the end, nobody had forced him to join the Dark Lord. It had still been his decision.

-end-


End file.
